


What Remains (Is Love)

by MCUsic_to_my_ears



Series: Avengers Pride Month 2019 [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Acceptance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bi Peter Parker, Dorks in Love, Fluff and Angst, Gay Ned Leeds, Gen, Grief/Mourning, LGBTQ Character, Love, M/M, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Parades, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Pride, Pride Parades, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Protective Ned Leeds, Teenage Dorks, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 22:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCUsic_to_my_ears/pseuds/MCUsic_to_my_ears
Summary: Peter and May discuss Tony's passing before Pride. Ned and Peter realize what it means after.





	What Remains (Is Love)

“One minute, May!” Peter called from his bedroom. He heard her apartment keys jangle as she laughed at his perceived antics. He peered down at his unmade bed. The neatly ironed flag glared back at him. Each strip like daggers in his stomach. He almost left the room without it. Called Ned and canceled. Told May his was sick. Something but turn his back on… 

“Fine,” he mumbled to the cloth, gingerly wrapping it around his shoulders. “You win.” Mr. Stark always won, even six feet under. 

In the entryway, May beamed at him. “You look so handsome, darling,” she promised, clasping his cheek and wondering when her boy had grown up. He certainly hadn’t asked her for permission. 

Peter blushed, forcing a quick smile before trying to continue out the door. 

May, of course, picked up on his discomfort, putting a hand to his chest. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He readjusted the flag awkwardly. 

She raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s just… Mr. Stark. He wanted to take me to my first Pride. Said that it was a coming of age thing and that he ‘wouldn’t miss it for the world’.” Peter turned back to May. “I trusted him.”

May clasped her son’s cheek, sad eyes searching his face. “I know you did, Peter. We- everyone did. But-”

“I know. He would be here if he could. Let’s just go.”

“No, Peter.” He frowned. Everyone always preached about Tony’s supposed remorse.  _ ‘He did what he thought was best’. ‘He misses you every day’. ‘The universe wouldn’t have made it without him’. ‘He’s gone now. You have to accept that and move on’. _ It was all empty. Worthless, in Peter’s opinion. “He is here,” May argued, a fierceness behind her eyes that she normally reserved for gender equality debates and Disney marathons. Peter couldn’t make himself look away. “It’s complete BS that we speak about Tony as if he no longer is with us.”

“May-” He didn’t want to cry again today. 

“I’m not done, Peter. Tony…” May sighed, bringing her intensity down. Scaring Peter wasn’t the same as Peter accepting her words. “When Ben died, it was like a part of us had been ripped clean out, taking pieces of us with him and letting the rest bleed out with time. Like there was no healing to be done, because something was missing that couldn’t be brought back. But part of him still remained. Tony still remains in all of your smiles, all of your tears.” Peter barked out a laugh as May pulled him against her shoulder, fruitlessly blinking to keep said tears at bay. “He will be in your pride and frustration. Your hope and fears. He is still with you, Peter. Just like Ben. Just like your mom and dad. Just like I will be someday and like you will be for every life you touch much later. People can’t be switched off, no repercussions.”

“People will forget Tony Stark.”

“If you are saying that people decompose, then yes, we do. But the components of us that have meaning? Those innovations and that heart are integrated into the next generation, even if they will never know the origin. Even if they don’t hold it in the esteem they should. That is a slow process. He is still more present than missing. The initial blow might have taken most of him, but what remains? We will be holding on to that for a long time.” 

Sensing that Peter didn’t need any more convincing, May fell silent, holding her boy tight. He breathed heavily against her, not sobbing, but not simply tearful either. She rubbed his back as if each stroke was another beat of his heart. When he finally calmed enough to pull away, Peter attempted to diffuse the weight in the air. “When did you become a poet?” He joked, his voice wavering as he wiped at his eyes with the now crumpled edges of the flag. 

“I’ve wanted to say this for a long time, but I didn’t have the words until now,” May confessed softly, still holding his hands. 

Peter nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right.” He smiled momentarily, eyes clear. “I know that he’s-” Peter waved his hand. “-here. But…”

“It’s still okay to miss him. Grief isn’t linear.”

Peter wrapped his arms around May one more time. “I’ve got to go,” he reminded. 

“Ned can wait.”

“I want to go.”

May ruffled his hair. “Alright. Let’s go.”

***

May insisted on accompanying Peter and Ned-who had met the pair in the lobby of the Parker’s apartment building-to the parade before letting them roam to their heart’s content. The couple bought rainbow cotton candy from a vendor before snaking through the crowd to get closer to the approaching parade itself. It was a gorgeous day. A rare cool, June wind eased the frenetic crowd, radiating excitement through the air. The gear was eye-catching and fantastically detailed. Peter had to remind himself not to stare too much at the shirtless men and occasionally the stray too-cropped-topped women. Ned didn’t complain because he had his moments of distraction before his boyfriend squeezed his hand. Both boys felt a little under-dressed (or maybe over, considering the comfort with nudity within the gathering) in their jeans and simple trans-alliance shirts (an homage to Flash, who was starting her first round of transition hormones that week). They had their respective flags wrapped around their shoulders: Ned’s rainbow, Peter’s pink-purple-blue. 

Peter leaned against the police fences humming “You are my Sunshine” under his breath once they reached the street view. He crumpled up his cotton candy handle and shoved into his back pocket. The floats and parade teams were just beginning to reach their section of the route and he wanted his hands free for the items he saw being tossed into the sidewalks. 

“So why are your eyes red?” Ned asked conversationally, just above the screams of their fellow Pride-goers, as if they weren’t in a huge crowd getting doused in glitter. 

“They are not!” Peter protested, rubbing at them. Glitter stuck to his face. 

Ned rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re just factually wrong. Go to the Wikipedia page for ‘Peter Parker’s Eyes’ and it will come up as color: slightly red, as if he had been crying recently. What gives?”

“My eyes don’t have a Wikipedia page.”

“And that will continue to be true as long as you answer my previous question: what gives?”

Peter sighed, leaning his head against Ned, not-so-slyly avoiding eye contact. He watched the parade for a moment. At a particularly impressive stunt by the ‘Athlete Alliance’ at NYU, Peter and Ned whooped. The parade hit a lull a minute or two after that, the following float being stuck a few blocks back throwing mini-flags off the sides. Ned nudged Peter. 

“Mr. Stark wanted to take me to my first Pride. But May and I already talked about it. I’m good.” Peter faced Ned. “Let’s just…” He pecked his boyfriend on the lips. “... enjoy this. Enjoy us for a little bit.” Another kiss, this one a little deeper. 

Ned grinned as they pulled apart. “Yeah, I can do that.”

The next float began to catch us with the rest of the parade again, all of them bringing enough trinkets and rainbow-colored candies to last the duo a lifetime. Peter wished he had had the foresight to bring a bag. When he thought,  _ Mr. Stark would have reminded you, _ it didn’t hurt as much as he expected it would. Maybe because he knew that love was greater than sorrow. Or because he could just see his mentor laughing at him from heaven at the number of items he was attempting to shove into his pockets. 

Whatever it was, he knew that Mr. Stark was getting a kick out of him looking like a bi-Santa with all of his frisbees and pixie sticks jumbled into his flag and hoisted over one shoulder. His other hand was occupied in squeezing Morse code messages into Ned’s hand, his voice hoarse from cheering. 

_ L-O-V-E Y-O-U _

Ned smiled, kissing Peter’s cheek. 

_ S-T-A-Y H-E-R-E _

“Hmm?” Ned asked softly. 

_ T-H-I-S P-E-A-C-E _

He (hopefully) explained. 

“Me too,” his boyfriend whispered. He swung their hands playfully, cutting off any further communications from Peter, who didn’t complain. 

The longer the silence stretched, the stronger Peter’s urge to turn around grew. Finally, Ned squeezed his hand, no codes, just comfort, and Peter risked a look behind. 

Nothing.

Just like he expected. But he swore he could feel Tony’s warm gaze on the back of his neck, just like the first time he helped with the Ironman suit. Contentment being passed to another. Peter looked up. He mouthed ‘Thank you’ to the cloudless sky. The warmth intensified. Peter squeezed Ned’s hand back. 

_ T-H-I-S L-O-V-E, _ he corrected. 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pride Month!!!


End file.
